


Ten places Martha never had sex with the Doctor

by cosmogyrals



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:11:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmogyrals/pseuds/cosmogyrals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...does what it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten places Martha never had sex with the Doctor

01\. The bed is small and cramped, and stuffed with what Martha swears is straw. She can't fall asleep; she's acutely aware of the fact that the man who snogged her earlier that day (or yesterday, or five hundred years in the future) is _right next to her_ , so close they're nearly touching (and they would be touching if he took up a bit more room, but he's so _skinny_ ). She can hear him breathing, slow and deep and even, and she thinks about their conversation before bed - how they were _so close_ to kissing, and then he ignored every one of her signals and started going on about Rose instead.

Oh, well, at least Shakespeare is attractive, even if sixteenth-century hygiene leaves a _lot_ to be desired.

 

02\. The Doctor's got her knickers in one hand, as if just being in her flat isn't awkward _enough_. She desperately wants him to stay - wants to stay with him - but on her own terms, and she doesn't know how to make him understand that. He wants Rose, and she can't do that - she can only be Martha.

_And shouldn't being me be good enough for him?_ she thinks angrily, yanking the knickers out of his hand. Honestly, what kind of bloke picks up a girl's underwear practically as soon as they first step into their flat? Especially one as _completely oblivious_ as the Doctor. She's almost glad that he'll be leaving soon, if only because being around him is full of frustration - but, at the same time, she wants to keep travelling, because it's _amazing_. He's amazing.

 

03\. Martha watches the Doctor as he hunches over the console, shirt sleeves rolled up and his glasses pushed up on his nose. There's something a little erotic about the way he interacts with the ship, caressing her and murmuring to her in a language she can only assume is Gallifreyan. If she didn't know any better, she'd be jealous. As it is, she just enjoys sitting there and watching him fiddle with things as she pretends to read, casting surreptitious glances over the top of her book.

She wonders sometimes what would happen if she just came up behind him and started touching him the way he touches the TARDIS, running her fingers over his body, playing him like a finely-tuned instrument. She wonders if he would push her away, or if he would let her pull him down onto the metal grating of the conole room. Suddenly, she realises that he's noticed her staring at him - probably because she hasn't bothered to look down at her book in a few minutes. Can Time Lords read minds? And if so, what is he thinking?

 

04\. The Doctor's taken her off on some daft hunt for the best chocolate milkshakes in the galaxy - she's not entirely certain _why_ , to be honest, but she feels that she deserves it after everything that's happened. They've been to 1950s Wisconsin, visited the ancient Aztecs, and now they're strolling down a beach, hand in hand, sipping their milkshakes, and Martha feels perfectly content.

The Doctor spreads his coat out on the sand, and they sit down to watch the sunset. This planet - Martha can't remember what it's called - has two suns, and the reflection on the waves is the most beautiful thing she's ever seen. Without thinking, she leans against him, resting her head on his shoulder as she slurps her milkshake through the straw, and everything seems perfect. She wishes she could just freeze this moment and keep it forever.

 

05\. They're huddling together under a blanket in front of the stone monolith that the Doctor says is a memorial to all those who died in the Time War. The Eye of Orion is _freezing_ , and the mist clings to them, making the blanket damp, and Martha almost wants to leave, it's so somber and depressing, but it's important to the Doctor. He's one of the few survivors of the Time War, she knows, and he put an end to it single-handedly, though it's not something he likes to admit to.

She can nearly feel the sorrow radiating off him, and she desperately wants to wrap her arms around him and hold him close, to make him feel like he's _not_ alone - he has her, and he'll always have her, whether he wants it or not. (And, all right, maybe he doesn't - but he _needs_ her nonetheless, even if he won't admit to it.) She wants to show him how much he means to her - she's a doctor, after all, and when she sees someone who's broken, she wants to fix them; it's something that's become an instinct.

She's just not sure it's possible to fix the Doctor.

 

06\. There's something about John Smith in his dressing gown and pyjamas that Martha finds irresistably adorable. She's never seen the Doctor just after he's gotten out of bed - she's not even certain that the Doctor _sleeps_. But John Smith does, and she brings him his paper and breakfast every morning, smiling to herself over his sleep-tousled hair. It's the closest to undressed she'll ever get to see him, she thinks, and it makes him look strangely vulnerable.

Of course, just being _human_ makes him seem vulnerable, probably because he _is_. It arouses her protective instincts - she wants to hold him close and keep him safe. But John Smith seems just as uninterested as the Doctor, which is silly, she thinks, because at least a human _has_ sexual urges. Just...not towards her, apparently.

 

07\. There's a new element of awkwardness in the TARDIS now that she's inadvertently admitted her feelings for the Doctor. Before, it seemed to be sexual tension that only _she_ could see; now, the Doctor seems more hesitant around her, more reluctant to be close to her, to do anything that could be misinterpreted. She preferred it when he was oblivious. The TARDIS, though it's still dimensionally transcendental, just doesn't seem big enough anymore.

She spends a lot of time in the wardrobe, trying on clothes from different eras and trying to avoid the Doctor; though they work well enough together when they're off doing something, the time in between adventures is full of tension, and Martha feels a little guilty for it.

The Doctor comes in one day when she's wearing a Victorian evening gown, low-cut with full skirts (and a fair few petticoats beneath it) and a corset that makes it difficult to breathe, and she swears he actually _looks_ at her for once - not as the girl who tags along after him, but in a sexual way, the way she _wants_ him to look at her. But it's only for a moment, and then that look in his eyes is gone, and then _he's_ gone.

 

08\. Their flat is small - it's all they can afford on Martha's salary, since the Doctor spends all his time fiddling with his timey-wimey detector (or so he claims; Martha knows that all he _really_ does is sit around and watch telly in his t-shirt and shorts and eat beans straight from the can). It almost seems, though, that the forced intimacy has brought them back to the way things used to be, and Martha's thankful for that. 

She bumps into him one morning when she's leaving the bathroom wrapped in her towel, and she's a little gratified to see him look flustered as he tries to find _anywhere_ else to look. She's thought about what would happen if he actually walked in on her in the shower - or vice-versa - though she doubts that her fantasy (which involves the Doctor suggesting that they shower together to conserve water) is anywhere near what would _actually_ happen.

He carefully edges around her, pressed flat up against the wall and pointedly not looking at her, and Martha almost wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all, except she knows that then she'd have to explain what she finds funny, and the Doctor probably wouldn't find it quite so humorous.

 

09\. Martha's spent several months running for her life, travelling across the ruined Earth and telling her story. It's not exactly the sort of environment that inspires sexual feelings - and, even if it were, she's been a bit too busy to think about such things, or so she likes to believe.

But she can't help but think about the Doctor while she's alone at night - _her_ Doctor, in full health, not the broken-down aged Doctor who's a prisoner of the Master. Even though the Master has the entire human race (or what's left of it) enslaved and working for him, she's still seen people meet each other and fall in love; it's the one thing the Master _can't_ crush - the one thing the Master can't even understand. And when she sees those couples together, clinging to each other as if they're the only thing that matters, she thinks of the Doctor.

She clutches her TARDIS key tightly as she curls up under a bush and tries to sleep - it's her good-luck talisman, but, more than that, it's her only connection to the Doctor. She hopes he's still alive, that he's somehow managing to undermine the Master and complete his part of the plan. She wishes he were here with her, to help keep her going, but she knows she's got to keep fighting without him.

 

10\. He's spent weeks working on the TARDIS in her parents' back garden now. She's watched him from her bedroom window - her mum keeps bringing him meals, trying to get him to eat; Martha could tell her that the Doctor hardly ever eats. Her dad keeps striking up conversations; the Doctor seems uninterested and tries to politely escape from them as soon as possible. She's not sure _why_ he's staying here, of all places. He could have taken the TARDIS anywhere after the paradox machine was broken, half-crippled or not.

She hasn't really spoken to him much, hasn't gone back to her room in the TARDIS. She's a little afraid to. She's afraid he'll notice how much she's changed over the last year, afraid he'll notice that she hardly ever sleeps through the night anymore. She's worried that he'll suddenly realise that she's going to leave him (though the bitter part of her insists that he won't care, she knows he will).

She still wants to have sex with him, though - maybe it's out of sheer persistence, or maybe it's because she wants to show him what he's missing out on, or maybe it's because she's still in love with him, even though her heart's been quite thoroughly broken. But her fantasies aren't of the passionate variety - the kind where they rip each others' clothes off. No, now the sex in her dreams is slow and a little sorrowful, an attempt to comfort both of them - and she _still_ knows that it isn't going to happen.


End file.
